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‘Yes, m’am. Mistress Mara . . . m’am.’ Birger hauled the handcart through the gate and walked slowly while Mara latched the gate and caught up to him. ‘The holly grove’s about a half league from here.’ His chin jutted toward the patch of forest to the northeast of The Green Man. ‘Won’t take us too long to get there. Old Goody be wanting some rowan wood, too. Now that’s a bit farther on.’
He looked at the position of the weak sun and narrowed his eyes as he looked toward the forest that hemmed in the long thrusting foothills a ways away. ‘See those firs just edging up the hills? The yew grow just in front of them. Special trees, the yews are. They stand between life and death, so I heard tell; hold back evil, my gran used to say.’
Birger picked up his pace, knowing that Mara could easily keep up with him. ‘Best we get the yew first – it’s tough wood, you know. Take the longest to saw. We’ll work our way back from there.’
The two trudged along in silence for a while before Birger got up the courage to speak again. ‘The man back there at the Green Man,’ he began. ‘He said you were trained by Elves.’ Now Birger had heard about Elves from other travelers to the Inn, and he wished mightily to meet one. And if he couldn’t meet one, he wanted to know as much about them as he could. ‘What were they like, m’am . . . those Elves?’
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